Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Mother of the Year

Again....and again.  Gosh, I'm so glad I'm the only Momma they've ever known.  If they had a standard to measure me by, there could be a revolt!  Let me start by saying that everyone is fine, there was never REALLY any question of whether or not they would be, and sometimes I exagerate for the sake of the story.  Shall we begin?...

We got home from a morning of fun at about 2 this afternoon.  Neither babe had napped well, both were tired and hot and grumpy, and so was the Momma.  I nursed Lauren first, swaddled her, and decided (for unknown reasons) to put her in the swing.  She was swaddled (like feet in, arms pinned, mummified), and so drowsy that she didn't open her eyes when I put her down.  Now, here's part one of the Mother of the Year...I did not strap her in.  The bar that swings down over her has to go between her legs (impossible in the swaddle) and the straps were tangled behind her (NO WAY I was going to attempt that!  She was for all intensive purposes ASLEEP!). 

I gathered up Kate, and we went upstairs.  I swaddled her, nursed her, put her down in her crib, and laid down on my bed for just a sec....when I heard a weird wimper/cry/moan/sigh from downstairs.  If the noise were a sentence it would have been, "Mom, uh MOM, I think I need you, I think I need you now...hurry please, no, I'm ok, but please, please hurry".  I FLEW down the stairs.  And found this:


Mother of the Year part 2...yip, I paused to take a picture!  How does this happen!?!?!!???  The swing was still going, she was holding on for dear life.  She had kicked her legs out, TURNED OVER, scooched down, and was attempting escape!  This child will be the death of me.

Oh, that's not all, friends, there's actually MORE.

After their nap (yes, even Lauren finally had a nap) I had them in the kitchen with me.  They were playing in the bumbos, talkin'...just hangin' out.  I decided that since I needed a snack, they probably did too.  They love bananas, we had bananas, I gave them bananas.  Instead, though, of their usual form (smushed to smitherenes) I decided they should try gumming up the real thing!  (Yip, you caught that, I DECIDED.)  They were so excited!  I went back to the task at hand, opening packages of raw hamburger.  Uh huh, you guessed it...strange sound #2 from Lauren.  She had bitten off more than she could chew.  She did not turn blue, she didn't even cry when it was over, BUT in the moment when I heard choking noises, I went in.  With. My. Hamburger. Hands.  Mother of the Year #3.  Now, before you call the health department, I didn't actually have any visible nastiness on my hands.  But, given the time, and lower heart rate, I most definitely would have washed my hands before sticking one in Lauren's mouth. 

One of those days.  I trust you have them too.  I tell myself 14 times a day that you have days like this too.  Let me believe that you have days like this....

In closing, an example of how very different my little animals are...

Kate:  Left alone with a pile of smushed banana.  Carefully picking up each piece and putting it in her mouth.  Aftermath:  Dirty hands, clean mouth, sticky tray, clean area surrounding.

Lauren: Loud banging, occasional splatters on the otherside of the room.
Aftermath:  dirty hands, dirty tray, dirty KITCHEN, clean mouth.

Grateful they're alive and well, and mine,
Momma

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